Funeral

Canon compliant AU.  Maedhros says goodbye to Fingon.  Quenya names used (Maedhros = Maitimo, Fingon = Findekáno or Káno).  I suppose you could consider this related to any of the Maedhros-related stories, but I consider it particularly related to "Enjoy", "Get Up", "Try Again", "Obsessive", "Villain" and "Mirror".  I'm sure there are others, but I can't think of them right now.  Nothing to say about this except it didn't happen canonically.  Takes place at Haudh-en-Ndengin post-Nirnaeth Arnoediad in the First Age.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion

Pairings: none

Characters: Maedhros (mentions Fingon and other random elves, men and dwarves who died in the Fifth Battle)

Warning: canon compliant AU, talking to the dead, momentary suicidal thoughts, possible insanity, semi-graphic descriptions of dead bodies, mentions torture, violence and sadism, self-hatred, premeditated murder

Song: Hisou

Words: 1,469
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funeral (noun): the observances held for a dead person usually before burial or cremation; an end of something's existence
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/funeral?show=0&t=1374686581

It rose out of the scorching, parched air, towering into the desolate sky hazed in sickly yellow sulfur and choking dust.  Even from afar it could be seen, the only anomaly rising from the desert stretching over the northern wastes in the wake of war and destruction.  The only remains of the tragedy that had ripped apart the last hope of the free peoples and left them all stranded with only the path to ruin.

Piled high, rotting limbs and rusting swords and rivers of dried blood gave it the darkened red color mixed with bleached white and shimmering silver.  These corpses had never been burned, their bodies left behind so disrespectfully to be feasted upon by vermin, scavengers and maggots.  An insult to their valor and courage if ever there was one.

Haudh-en-Ndengin.  It left a bitter taste in the mouth.

Most would never dare venture away from the safety of the distant foothills for any reason, let alone risk traversing the hot, shifting sands underneath the gaze of the hated enemy merely to stand before this monstrosity.

But Maitimo Fëanárion could hardly be counted amongst "most".

It was, to him, laughable--the idea that he would fear capture by the enemy with such vehemence and cowardice that he would leave behind those who had died--those he had failed, because had this whole ridiculous venture not been his idea?--and hide away in the last stronghold of the north left untouched by the desolation of Beleriand.  In the distance, Himring still sat upon its peak, a dark turret stretching into the grayed, noxious sky, but he felt no pressing need to flee back to the safety of its mighty walls.  They could protect his body, but they could not shield his mind or sooth his conscience.

Maitimo did not fear death.  But even if he had, it changed not the fact that he wanted--needed--to pay his respects.

The Hill, up close, was even larger than he had expected when he imagined its size from a distance.  But in retrospect, so many had died that he thought perhaps it was too small--not the veritable mountain it should have been.  Maybe the enemy took prisoners.  Or maybe they had eaten much the remains.

It didn't seem to matter much now, at the end.  Even if no remains laid here for every man fallen in battle, it still served its purpose.  As a tomb.  One that could never be neglected or forgotten, for who could look upon it and forget its sight?

Just standing near to it should have turned the mighty warrior's stomach, but no amount of spilled innards or mutilated bodies could damage Maitimo's psyche further than already had been done in the torture chambers of Angband.  Not even the smell rising rancid upon the burning winds--of charred flesh and the copper of blood and the rotting and rotting and rotting to the bone--could shatter his resolved calm and determination to see through this task.  See through this funeral.

Alone.

He approached the Hill further, until he could make out individual body parts sundered from their whole, desecrated corpses ripped to shreds and thousands of tons of metal armor and dulled swords.  Until he was close enough to reach out and touch.  Until every detail was branded sharply into the back of his mind.

But even amongst all that horrifying death piled high into the air, he spotted dapples of green sprouting forth.  The first signs of grass branching its way upwards, growing from the nutrients of dead matter enriching barren soil.  Nowhere else upon this wasteland was a single spot of life to be seen except in that which death was most prominent.

Now that evil symbol was marred.  For the better.

And all he could think to do was hum softly that song which most reminded him of Findekáno, even if it was ever so slightly off pitch in the eerie silence, its ancient melody broken only with the buzzing of flies breeding thick in the air.  Maitimo ignored them, his eyes instead searching for even the smallest token or shard of his best friend amidst the death and rubble and greenery.

Not even a star in sight.  But it was to be expected.  If any body had been taken away to be further disrespected for sport, it would have been the High King's.  Morgoth, he knew, was a vindictive and jealous creature; that foe would not have allowed this slight to pass without post-mortem humiliation of the royal House.  Even if no one was there to appreciate the nauseating celebration of reinforced victory but he himself.

"Well, I am here," he finally spoke when the song ran dry beneath the hot sun, evaporated away. And he hated that his voice wobbled ever so slightly.  That guilt laid so heavy upon his shoulders that he almost fell apart right there upon the burning sands, for a moment considered laying down here with those men who had followed him loyally and died for his folly and joining their ranks in peaceful slumber.

But then, that would have been shameful.  He hardly deserved to rest with such fine comrades.  Even his pristine, washed body was too tainted to brush against these decaying bodies.

"I do not suppose I can set aflame this Hill," he continued. "I have a feeling you would not have wanted to be cremated anyway, Káno.  You always did rather scoff at such silliness.  Besides, I think you would have liked this better."

To be the only spot of life in a sea of death.  His cousin always had been a defiant spirit.  And what better way to defy the enemy than from beyond the grave?

Awkwardly, Maitimo gazed at the bared bones, skin melted away.  None of the bodies still had eyes.  Either they had been plucked free by birds or the first to disappear with the ravages of time and heat.  Nevertheless, he wondered if any of them could see him standing here or hear his words.

"I would not ask forgiveness," he added softly, "but I did come to say goodbye.  And that I am proud to have had one such as you for a cousin and a friend."

Even though it will be hard to go on without you.

For Maitimo knew he was falling apart.  Everyone knew it.  Without hope of breaching Angband and defeating the Dark Lord, he had no choice but to turn southward, towards Doriath.  Towards the only Silmaril within reach or cursed greed.  In his breast, the Oath was raging out of control, a seed that had grown into a toxic monstrosity rooted deep in his mind.  He could not deny it any longer, could not delude himself into believing that there was another path.

It was too late for him.  And with no Findekáno to ground him or tie him up to a chair and imprison him in Mithrim... there was not much of a chance of stopping him from continuing his quest.

In some ways, this was just as much his funeral as his cousin's.

But still, he scrounged up a smile from somewhere.

"I cannot say you will be proud of me, my dear cousin.  But I do hope we meet again.  Try not to get into too much mischief whilst I am away."

With nothing else to say, Maitimo kept the Hill company in quiet stillness for a few minutes.  The rest of the men here deserved at least that much respect (much more, were he honorable enough to recall their names and faces without fear) from a mere Kinslayer.  And silently he wished them luck as well.  Their tenure in hell was over, and soon they would be home.  Far away from here.  Far away from this crumbling land lost to the darkness.  Far away from the sin sitting premeditated in the back of this murderer's mind.

He wouldn't have wanted Findekáno to see him fall from grace.  His cousin was blessed in that he was to miss the most disappointing chapter of the tragedy.  The part where the suffering hero surrenders to his inner darkness and plummets into the abyss and wickedness and despair.

He was almost glad that his best friend would not be here to witness.

Task completed, he turned away and began the trudge back to the dark speck in the distance, ignoring blazing light upon his back and sweat soaking through his clothing.  Arien was dipping beneath the horizon, casting her bloodstained veil over the world, but Maitimo could still appreciate the glimmer of setting sunlight upon armor and iron, almost blinding from a distance.

Like the brilliance of vivid green star.
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Funny.  I actually expected this story to be rather short, but for once I focused more on writing descriptions than on pure introspection, and it seemed to gain several hundred words.  There are, like, five lines of dialogue.  LOL.  Anyway, I just thought that Maedhros would want to say goodbye to his best friend (and in my head-canon they are friends and not lovers), so I did this.  And it turned out more meaningful than I had intended (in reference to Maedhros consideration of his own circumstances).

That, and the whole thing about Fingon liking the "being the only green speck in the desert" thing.  I hadn't really planned that, either, but it worked.  And it was mentioned in "Flowers", so I suppose you could say this piece is related to that one as well.  In any case, just a filler-like blurb with no real plot.  Hope you liked.

The song has been on my mind for several days.  Hisou is yet another piece from Naruto Shippuuden (by Yasuharu Takanashi) that showed up at the end of a Top Ten Saddest Songs thing as a "main menu" song with the Yondaime watching the sunset in the background.  In case you were wondering about Arien setting in the story, that's probably where it came from.  Subconscious association.  In any case, I was surprised that Hisou (Tragic) did not make it into that top ten, which I believe was determined by vote.  But I suppose the association between Senya and Itachi removed it from the running.

In any case, I think it's beautiful and perfect for this scene.  Agree or disagree, but thou shouldst still listen to its awesomeness.